Art
Easy to live with
Evan Anthony
It is possible that my fondness for blues and greens makes me a natural foil for the talents of Alfred Cohen, American ex-patriot, but I should like to think that there is more to it than sea and sky. At Roland, Browse and Delbanco, Cork Street, the latest Cohen show presents nothing new as far as the development of the artist is concerned, but the stage at which he is apparently content to stay is as good a one as any to mark time. If anything, he has perfected a sureness of style that gives the work the confidence it needs to dispel suspicions that he is on the facile side. But those gorgeous greens and blues, with the occasional bold blood red thrown in for good measure, provide a strong backbone for the land, sea, and townscapes. They are, as they say, easy to live with.
Considering the number of exhibitions listed to his credit — one a year, sometimes two — Cohen is disconcertingly prolific, and the boast may well be that he can do them with one hand tied behind his back. The one that holds the brush is good enough, and rather than complain that he doesn't work hard enough, I prefer to applaud his ability to combine the rough smears and bold outlines with just the right colour, and hope that such deftness holds until he is ready to go just that much deeper.
Another somewhat glib, talented fellow is Jack Coulthard at the Mercury Gallery, Cork Street. There are two paintings in his exhibition that stop me from dismissing him as tiresomely slick —
Ezra Pound at Pisa and Birdhouse on the Palatine. Both have a visual interest beyond the literary or representational stimulus on which the work depends. Dwelling on the surreal and/or symbolic image is a perfectly feasible means of 'hooking' your audience, but too often the seams show where the image and the considerable technical skill have combined and there is a superficiality that results. But in the two paintings mentioned, the starkness and mystery are at one with the technique and they are pictorially satisfying; the tinY figure of Pound, shrouded in darkness and contrasting with the edifice in the background in the one instance — and the figures moving in and around the palatial setting in the other — offer a compositionally intriguing picture. At the Piccadilly Gallery, Cork Street, the oddly named Milanese artist and sculptur, Adolfo Wilde offers a far more substantial example of how symbol and style should join together. Wildt died in 1931 and this is, I believe, the first show of any of his work in this country. On the basis of the drawings and sculpture on view, Wildt has left behind an unusual body of work, superbly stylised and designed. The religious basis of his pictures is only the starting, off point for the creation of exceptonally lovely compositions, spare and provocative. It is easy enough to see an affinity with the symbolists and with art nouveau, but the dramatic impulses of those movements are not characteristic of Wildt. The line and tone, in ink and pencil, are exquisitely controlled, the work of a perfectionist. The marble sculptures are as precise as are the drawings, and if a shade on the depressing side, they are undeniably haunting and beautiful. I should like to see more of his work. That could also be said of the Drawings from the KroIler-Muller National Museum, Otterlo, at the Courtauld Institute Galleries, Wo• burn Square. This is a tease of a show, and an excellent trailer that should encourage you to get awaY from it all and spend a day or two at Otterlo, where you will visit one of the most beautiful museums in the world. The sample of its collection should make it clear at once that the Kroller-Muller isn't just a pretty place. The van Gogh drawings are the centrepiece of the show and they are fascinating examples of tIte work of a genius who, even at his clumsiest, has a passion and an interest in drawing pictures that is thrilling to observe. The develonment of his ability is clearly shown, and the enormous self-discipline that made him plug away and produce some of the most remarkable pictures we are ever likely to see, is certainly hinted at in this small show of his work. Along with van Gogh, there are drawings by his contemporaries, by Redon, and a sampling of earlY twentieth century modern masters, e.g. Picasso, Gris, Leger. AlthoUgh their inclusion may seem a bit of an afterthought, on the whole the exhibition makes a very tasty hors d'oeuvre
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